John Doe
by StrongerThanThat
Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya died in a fire early third year of middle school. Approximately eight months later, Detective Maeda finds a boy with light blue hair living in the basement of a murder suspect. He takes the boy in and enrolls him in Seirin high school. Chaos ensues during a basketball practice match with Kaijou. Warning: Abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.

Cassie: This is my first attempt in this fandom. I hope the characters aren't too OOC. John Doe is a name for males whose true identity is unknown, just in case you didn't know. Enjoy!

* * *

Kuroko Tetsuya died on a Friday, surrounded with nothing but crumbling walls and ardent embers. By the time the fire department arrived and retrieved his body, the middle school student was covered in third degree burns, completely unrecognizable.

The local police said it was murder.

* * *

John Doe was a short boy. Even though the doctors put him around Yosuke's age, his son had to be at least half a head taller. Detective Maeda approached the occupied hospital bed slowly, not wanting to startle the kid.

"Hello, I'm Detective Maeda Ichirou. I'm here to ask you some questions," the black haired man said warmly, giving the teenager a bright smile. Light blue eyes stared at him blankly and the detective's grin faltered slightly. Just how many times had he seen that empty gaze in this line of work?

The detective settled down in a chair next to the patient and almost winced. The closer proximity allowed him to see the full extent of the boy's injuries. The youth's skin was literally painted with purple bruises. Some were already disappearing but others appeared new, blooming across the teen's fair skin. There were cuts too; dozens and dozens of them. The boy was covered in stitches. His left leg was in a cast. And that was nothing compared to what was hidden underneath the kid's hospital gown.

Detective Maeda felt sick. He had read the report the doctor gave them roughly four days ago. John Doe had been in that basement for at least six months. He couldn't shake off the feeling that it had been longer.

"Can you talk?" Maeda questioned. John Doe didn't react.

"Hey," the detective tried again, "I'm only here to help. I can't do that if you don't talk to me." Silence. The man observed quietly as John Doe slowly swallowed. Soon, a pink tongue darted out to wet chapped lips.

"Y-Yesss," the boy struggled, forcing the words out. Detective Maeda beamed encouragingly.

"Very good. Now, can you tell me your name?" It would be good to return this boy to his parents. John Doe couldn't be more than fourteen.

The emaciated teenager seemed alarmed at the question. His previously emotionless eyes were wide in confusion. "I-I don't hav-ve o-one."

* * *

Aida Riko stared at the freshman before her in disbelief. His numbers were far above what she had expected from a first year student in high school. The teenager in front of her couldn't possibly be just fifteen. She couldn't even estimate his potential! It was the first time she had encountered someone like that in real life; someone who had natural talent.

"Coach! How long are you going to daydream?" Hyuuga yelled, snapping her out of her reverie.

"S-Sorry!" Riko apologized, a little flustered when she realized she had been ogling a boy shamelessly for the past five minutes.

"You've seen everyone, right? That guy was the last," Hyuuga asked, gesturing to the tall, red headed freshman.

"Oh. Really? There's supposed to be someone else," she replied, scratching the back of her head. "Hey! Is Maeda here?" Riko shouted, causing everyone to look around.

"Maybe he's absent today," Izuki commented when no one stepped forward. Riko sighed.

"I guess so. I'm just a little worried. He's a bit of a special case," Riko said. The seniors looked at her curiously, waiting for her to elaborate. "The principal called me to her office this morning and told me to watch out for him. Apparently, Maeda was injured recently. He hasn't fully recovered yet," Riko explained.

"I don't get it. Why not join later when he's better?" Koganei asked.

"I'm not sure. The principal didn't say much," Riko answered truthfully.

"S-Sorry, I'm l-late!" A shaky voice interjected. Everyone turned to face the entrance of the hall. A short boy with light blue haired had just entered. "I-I'm Maeda J-John," the student stuttered softly. He walked over to where they were at a slow pace, causing everyone present to stare in shock. The boy was limping.

"Oi! Don't you know it's rude to stare?" Another voice stated. Aida looked behind John to see her classmate, Maeda Yosuke. He was glaring at all of them.

"A-Ah, I apologize on everyone's behalf. We were just a little caught off guard," Junpei replied, embarrassed. "What are you doing here, Yosuke?"

"What does it look like? I'm accompanying him," the black haired teen said, looking pointedly at the boy with light blue hair. Huh? Why would Yosuke- Oh! Now Riko felt like an idiot.

"I didn't realize you had relatives at this school. Is he your cousin?" Aida questioned.

"He's my brother."

"EH?!" the seniors exclaimed.

"You look nothing alike!"

Whoever shouted was right. The freshman was a lot shorter than her classmate. Furthermore, John had light blue hair and eyes while Yosuke had black hair and brown eyes. Perhaps the only thing they had in common was their fair skin.

"John's adopted. Just get back to what you were doing. I'm only here to supervise," Yosuke said, making himself comfortable on the benches at the side of the hall. He sat next to Takeda-sensei, giving the teacher a small nod.

Riko spun around to look at John, unsure of what to do. Could the boy still play with his left leg in that condition? At the moment, Aida doubted he would even heal completely. The limp had appeared pretty serious. Never mind, she would think about that later. She needed to take a look at his numbers.

"Maeda, can you please take off your shirt?" Riko requested politely. It was a subconscious action. Something about the freshman told her she shouldn't be too aggressive around him. John looked at her with wide blue eyes, panicking.

"N-No!" John protested, crossing his arms defensively. It was then Riko noticed that Maeda wasn't wearing the standard PE uniform. John was wearing a black long sleeved shirt and track pants that reached his ankles.

"What was that, freshman? You don't get to deny!" Junpei cut in, looming over Maeda. John jumped in fright. The senior appeared flummoxed at Maeda's reaction. What the-

"He said no, Hyuuga!" Yosuke was suddenly in between Junpei and his adopted sibling, hazel brown eyes blazing. Everyone else stared in disbelief.

"Riko's the coach! He can't say no! It's not like she's doing anything sick. She just wants to take a look at his numbers!" Hyuuga retorted, pushing up his glasses.

Yosuke clenched his fists. "I dare you to make him take it off-"

"That's enough, Maeda-san," Takeda-sensei stepped in, placing a firm hand on Yosuke's shoulder. Turning to Junpei, he continued. "Due to certain circumstances, I'll have to ask you to make an exception. Aida-san, you have spoken to the principal, have you not?"

Riko nodded, stunned. This never happened before. Takeda-sensei had always left them to their own devices. Why did he interfere this time? The female coach stared at the petite first year with light blue hair, pensive.

Just what was going on with that freshman?

* * *

Cassie: What do you guys think? Is this acceptable? Kuroko's OOC now because he doesn't remember who he is. Oh, and do you guys have any preference when it comes to pairings?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.

* * *

It was hard not to notice the guy with the perpetual limp. There was no wonder why Maeda John was the most well known first year in school, despite the freshman's lack of charisma. The boy wasn't exactly popular per se, but everyone knew who he was.

"Hey, isn't he that cripple who joined the basketball club?"

"Oh, he's the adopted brother of our student council's vice president, isn't he?"

"I heard he pissed off some delinquents in his middle school and they beat up his leg with a baseball bat!"

"Look guys, here comes the limping wonder!"

"Does he have some kind of speech issue or something? I've never heard him talk without stuttering."

Honestly, it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

Although there were a couple of students who liked to pick on the scrawny-looking kid, there were a lot more looking out for Kagami's classmate. The bullies didn't have a chance to do anything because Maeda was never alone. There was always someone next to him, whether it was during recess, in between classes, or after school.

Most of the time, that person would be Maeda's brother, who Kagami later found out was the vice president of Seirin's student council. On rare occasions, when his classmate's older sibling was busy, Maeda would have second years accompanying him, usually friends or classmates of said occupied person. Kagami had seen Riko, and even their basketball captain, Hyuuga, waiting for Maeda outside his classroom more than once.

Of course, the seniors' actions didn't go unnoticed by the first years. Soon, some of the freshmen began watching out for Maeda as well. Even Kagami had helped the kid climb the stairs a few times. He didn't mind that much. Maeda was a decent guy, despite his twitchiness and bizarre behavior. There was one thing that always bothered Kagami though.

The kid had no scent.

Yes, the idiot was referring to basketball.

It was weird. Maeda should have reeked of weakness but he didn't. His classmate was odorless. It made Kagami curious. He wondered exactly how good Maeda was before the incident that damaged his leg. Had his classmate not been injured, Kagami would have challenged him to an one on one. But, as it was, there were rumors circulating that his classmate's leg would not heal entirely. Judging by the way Maeda limped past Kagami's table to get to his own desk every morning on a school day, the speculations might not be totally unfounded.

Kagami would probably never find out how good Maeda was at basketball.

* * *

"Let's have a five versus five mini-game!" Riko declared gleefully after looking at the downpour outside. "Freshmen, you'll play against the second years!" A short lived silence fell over the occupied sports hall before a frantic first year broke it.

"What? Coach, we'll be crushed!" Fukuda exclaimed, incredulous.

"Eh, what do you mean?" Kawahara asked, staring at his teammate.

"Don't you remember what they told us when we joined the club? Last year, with only their freshmen, they made it to the final league!" Fukuda explained. The other first years broke out in cold sweat, obviously shocked.

"S-Seriously?" Furihata enquired, his voice going up an octave.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Kawahara shouted. He turned to glance at their seniors, seeing them in a new light. Even Kagami seemed slightly interested. He faced the group of freshmen, smirking.

"Why are you guys so scared? Isn't it better when the opponents are strong?" Kagami stated with a grin on his face. The others were taken aback. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!" The red haired freshman headed towards the basketball court determinedly.

Riko smiled at his enthusiasm, reaching for the whistle hanging around her neck. However, before she could officially start the game, Junpei gave her a pointed glance, nodding subtly towards a particular freshman with cerulean eyes. Puzzled, Aida dropped the red instrument. Hyuuga could almost see an invisible question mark floating above her head. The bespectacled captain sighed exasperatedly. Great. Now, he'll have to play the bad guy.

"Actually coach, I don't think that's a good idea," Hyuuga said bluntly. "The freshmen only have four members. Maeda's not fit enough to play yet." At that, everyone turned to stare at the first year with light blue hair, realization dawning in their eyes. The captain was right. Even though it had almost been two weeks since the first training of the year, Maeda was still injured. The pale boy squirmed under their scrutiny.

Someone laughed, catching their attention. They looked to the side, only to see Maeda Yosuke chuckling from the benches. A couple of them jumped, a little unnerved when they remembered that they were being supervised by the student council's vice president. When the second year finally regained his composure, he faced them, hazel brown eyes filled with mirth. "Hyuuga, don't worry about that. John can play, just go ahead and start."

Junpei eyed the short freshmen uncertainly. His leg certainly didn't seem better. "Are you sure about that? We can still give him some time to recuperate. There's really no rush." Yosuke shook his head.

"The doctors said this is as far as he's going to recover. He's going to be like that for the rest of his life. Time's not going to do anything about it," Maeda explained nonchalantly. The others shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Looks like the rumors were true. Poor guy. Still, why join the basketball club if you can't play?

The captain hesitated. Not letting Maeda play would just seem cruel. But on the other hand, it wouldn't be fair to the freshmen team if they played the match. Not to mention, the game might aggravate Maeda's leg. If it did, he would have to take full responsibility. A small hand landed on his shoulder. Junpei turned to see Riko smiling at him reassuringly.

"It'll be okay," Aida said before facing Yosuke. "Alright, I'll let him play." Riko looked at John who was wearing his jersey over yet another long sleeved shirt. "Maeda, you should go change into your PE attire. It might be raining, but the weather's still pretty hot."

"U-Um, I'm g-good with this," John replied softly, looking down to avoid her glaze. Riko noticed how uncomfortable he was and decided to cut him some slack.

"Fine," Riko resigned. Turning to the rest of the team, she yelled. "Come on everyone, get on the court!" As the players got ready, Aida eyed the frail first year with light blue hair uneasily. She almost winced when she saw him hobbling onto the court. Was letting him play really the right thing to do? Rubbing her temples, the coach sighed. Forget it. It was too late to do anything now. She brought her whistle to her mouth and blew.

Thus, the match began.

* * *

When Midorima arrived, there were already flowers on that person's grave.

"As expected, you're the first one here." The solitary figure that stood before the tombstone turned.

"Midorimacchi," Kise greeted solemnly, "you came." There was no trace of the blond's usual cheerful demeanor.

"Of course," the green haired visitor replied. For once, he didn't pick on the model for stating the obvious. Midorima closed the distance between them and set the white lilies he bought next to that person's grave. He glanced at the name carved on the stone before quickly averting his eyes and making a hasty retreat.

The Shuutoku freshman took a couple of steps back, stopping a few feet behind Kise. He looked down at his hands, or rather, fists. The green haired teen unclenched them slowly, discovering crescent-shaped imprints. Midorima stared at the marks unblinkingly.

Even now, at that person's one year death anniversary, he couldn't deny that he was angry.

The bespectacled youth could feel eyes digging into his skull. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Midorima allowed his hands to fall back to his sides before raising his head to glare at Kise. He would never admit it, but he was mildly impressed with the blond. Besides Akashi, Kise was the only person able to maintain his composure in front of that person's grave. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he met Kise's worried glaze straight on.

"Midori-"

"Here, your lucky item for today," Midorima interjected. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small wooden charm. For a moment, it seemed as if Kise was going to pursue the issue. But then, the flaxen haired teenager shut his mouth and took the tiny object.

"How many did you bring?" Kise enquired, slightly curious.

"Two, excluding yours. Akashi will be here in the afternoon with Murasakibara," Midorima replied calmly, thankful for the change in subject.

"Murasakibaracchi?" Kise repeated, surprised. It was common knowledge among the generation of miracles that neither Aomine nor Murasakibara showed up their old teammate's funeral even after Akashi's command. While no one was surprised by Aomine's absence, the purple haired giant's had come as a shock. It was the first time Murasakibara disobeyed Akashi's orders.

Midorima nodded. "Murasakibara knows better than to defy Akashi twice."

And that was the end of that conversation. Both of them knew Kise wanted to ask about a certain basketball ace. However, Midorima also knew Kise already had the answer. No, Aomine would not be coming. Neither would Momoi. Touou's manager would spend the day preventing the idiot from doing anything stupid. An agonizing silence streaked through the cemetery. A minute turned into five.

"Ne Midorimacchi, does it ever get easier for you?" Kise finally asked after fifteen long minutes, his topaz eyes never leaving the white headstone.

From his current position, Midorima couldn't see Kise's face. He didn't have to. There was a noticeable tremor in the blond's shoulders.

The green haired teen looked back to the grave decorated by lilies, roses and carnations; the latter two had probably been left by Kise and that person's parents. He thought about the closed coffin that still plagued his dreams from time to time. He thought about how none of them could stand to be in the same room or even say Kuro- that person's name after the incident. And lastly, he thought about the little habits they picked up while dealing with their sudden loss.

"No," he said, recalling Akashi's random calls to check up on them, Murasakibara's aversion to anything vanilla, Aomine's renewed dedication to basketball, Kise's isolation and his own tendency to purchase lucky items for his now ex-teammates. "I don't believe it does for any of us."

* * *

Cassie: Wow, you guys are so supportive! Thank you all for the reviews, favorites and story alerts! I seriously can't believe I got this much response!

That aside, there are some of you who asked if this was a romance based story or a plot based story. Truthfully, I haven't given this story a label. What I can say is that the first few chapters are definitely plot based. But without doubt, there is going to be romance in later chapters.

The last time, I asked if there were any pairings you guys preferred. This was mostly due to the fact that I couldn't pick one. I love them all! I still can't choose so I decided voting is the fairest way, that is, if you reviewers don't mind. I don't want to set up a poll and inconvenience everybody by making you visit my profile page so you can just include the pairings you want in your reviews. So far, the results are like this:

GoM/Kuroko – 5

Kise/Kuroko – 3

Akashi/Kuroko – 2

Aomine/Kuroko – 1

You can vote for more than one, but try not to vote for more than three. Feel free to suggest new pairings that are not already stated above. Thanks once again for showing your support! I really appreciate it.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.

* * *

At the very beginning, there was nothing but darkness.

Numbness receded from the boy's limp body as he slowly regained consciousness. His hearing was the first to recover, and for a brief moment, the boy just laid there, listening to the sound of his own breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

What was that? Slowly, the boy's eyes fluttered open. All he could see was the color black. It was no different from what he saw behind closed eyelids. Where was he? The boy groaned as he tried to move. His fingers twitched, and suddenly, there was pain.

Agonizing pain. The boy let out a muffled scream. Pain seared through his dry throat and limbs, crushing his ribcage, rendering him incapable of producing coherent thought. And for the first time since the boy woke up, he could feel everything.

He could feel the incessant pounding in his skull, the unrelenting coldness of his surroundings, and most of all, the mind-blowing pain in his left leg. Warm tears burned in the boy's eyes as he gritted his teeth to prevent himself from crying out. It hurt so much he wanted to die. What had happened to him? How did he get here? And most importantly, was anyone coming to save him?

Please! It hurts! Somebody, help!

When it seemed like all hope was lost, a glimmer of light materialized in his line of sight. The boy quickly shielded his eyes with his right hand. He was surprised by the excruciating pain that accompanied this action. Salty tears streamed down his flushed cheeks despite his efforts to keep them at bay. Through his blurry vision, he could see an opened doorway and a tall silhouette. It was a man.

"I see you're awake." The voice was deep and confident. The person moved closer and the boy could see him carrying a first aid kit. Soon enough, the man was directly in front of him. The intimidating figure crouched down, and he suddenly found himself face to face with piercing emerald eyes. The boy choked, unable to make a sound under the intensity of that commanding glaze.

"Look at you. What a pitiful sight. Absolutely pathetic," the dark haired man with aristocratic features said coldly while tending to his wounds. The boy hissed at the harsh sting of antiseptic. The stranger sneered. "Oh, it hurts, doesn't it? Maybe next time you'll think twice before you mouth off. If you had half a brain, you'll listen to what I say."

The boy was confused. Did he know this scary person? He swallowed to clear his throat, and blinked in shock at the metallic taste of iron in his mouth. Oh, blood. Pushing the revelation out of his mind, the boy croaked out a question. "W-Who are y-you?"

"What?" the man in his late twenties demanded, glaring.

"I-I can't r-remember who you are. I d-don't remember anything," the boy repeated, eyebrows furrowed. "Mister, what's my n-name?"

For a moment, one long enough to last an eternity, the stranger could only stare. Then, the stoic man grabbed him by his shirt and forced his head down. The boy let out a startled yelp. The tall stranger gingerly parted the roots of his hair and prodded his head injury with slender fingers. When the green eyed man finally released him, he could see the stranger's broad shoulders quivering. It took a while for the boy to realize that he was chuckling. The laughter was dark and borderline hysterical, and it made the boy's heart hammer loudly in his chest. He wondered why he was so afraid of the man despite having no memory of ever meeting him.

The stranger grinned when he regained his composure.

"You? You have no name, brat! As for me, you can address me as Sir."

* * *

"I can't believe this! The freshmen are in the lead?!"

Riko stared at the scene before her in disbelief. How could the first years possibly be winning? The shocked brunette watched incredulously as a certain red headed freshman made yet another dunk. It was him. Kagami. The first year was scoring all by himself! She could honestly say that he had surpassed all her prior expectations.

As the game dragged on, Aida let out a relieved sigh. The seniors had finally started catching up. Good. If they hadn't, she would have doubled their training regiment for a month. Soon, the second years had turned the tides. Their victory had been inevitable, of course. With the exception of Kagami, the other first years were only average players. Had the seniors played seriously from the beginning, the freshman wouldn't have had the chance to lead.

By the time they took a break, the first years' score was only half of the second years.

"Was there any way for us to win in the first place?" Kawahara asked, wiping his perspiration with a white towel.

"I seriously doubt it. Can't we just stop now? I've had enough!" Furihata said, depressed. The brown haired teen was suddenly lifted by a strong arm. Kagami had yanked the first year up by his shirt.

"Enough?" Kagami repeated, furious. "What the hell are you talking about?" the red headed freshman raged. From across the hall, the second years were watching the argument with exasperation and slight mirth.

"Looks like the freshmen are having a dispute," Koganei remarked.

"It's Kagami. Why am I not surprised?" Hyuuga said, drinking a bottle of water. None of the second years made any move to stop the argument. Their juniors could sort it out themselves. Minutes ticked by as the players let their bodies cool down.

"Who would have known Maeda-san could be this nice?" Izuki mused suddenly, drawing the second years' attention. All of them followed his gaze to the benches, where their rather infamous first year and vice president were located. The black haired teen was currently handing the younger a towel and a drink.

"I guess his brother is a good influence on him," Hyuuga stated.

"Now that I think about it, wasn't Maeda playing too? I barely noticed him," Koganei chipped in.

What? Now that Riko thought about it, neither had she. It was quite astonishing. Riko had planned to keep an eye on the small freshman due to his handicap. Somehow, despite her intentions, she had completely forgotten about him half way through the first half. With his small stature and quiet personality, it was hard to really see the first year. Had Maeda been a normal, healthy student, she wouldn't have noticed him at all. It was actually pretty impressive, if not a little sad.

Abandoning that train of thought, Aida glanced at her watch. It was time to begin the second half. Blowing her whistle, she called all the players back to the court. And so, the game resumed. The second years continued to score and the demoralized freshmen could do nothing to change the pace. Riko shook her head. This would need some working on. She didn't need people who gave up easily. Unbeknownst to the female coach, she wasn't the only one getting frustrated.

"John, what are you doing? Stop shuffling around and play properly!" Yosuke suddenly shouted from the sidelines, startling most of the players on the court. Riko looked like she wanted to berate her classmate for his harsh words. What was Yosuke expecting? There wasn't a lot John could do with his limp, as much as it pained her to admit. Before she could say anything though, a small voice replied.

"S-Sorry. I-I'm not used to p-playing with a team," John stuttered, his hands fiddling with the ends of his jersey.

"C-Can you please pass me the ball?" John requested politely, barely audible. Kawahara, who held the ball at that moment, couldn't bring himself to deny his fellow first year, despite the fact that Maeda would probably lose the ball. The first year handed the ball over hesitantly.

In a flash, Maeda was across the court.

What the hell? Everyone, with the exception of a certain smirking vice president, stared bewildered as John bypassed all the players on the opposing team within a few seconds. And before anyone could even react, the small, supposedly handicapped player shot the basketball with an unorthodox form. It went in the ring with a swish, and the ball hit the floor with a loud thud.

Silence.

"Yosuke-niisan! Did you see that? I scored!" John turned and cheered, cheeks flushed and blue eyes bright. The person addressed grinned, giving the other a thumbs up. The second year briefly wondered if his adopted brother noticed that he had stopped stuttering.

It took roughly half a minute for the rest of the team to react.

"What the heck just happened?"

"I must have been dreaming. I could have sworn the ball-"

"Eh? But I thought his leg-"

"Oh, didn't you know? John's limp is psychosomatic," Yosuke explained while laughing as the aforementioned hid behind him, intimidated by the sudden commotion. The match had been forgotten.

"What?" the Seirin team exclaimed. Riko smacked the vice president's shoulder.

"Why didn't you say something sooner, idiot!"

* * *

"So, what do you think? Is chocolate okay?" Yosuke asked. He watched in amusement as John licked his ice cream tentatively. A pleasantly surprised look appeared on the younger boy's delicate features and Yosuke inwardly applauded himself as John smiled.

"Y-Yes. This is d-delicious," John answered courteously, though less rigid than before. "I've n-never had anything like t-this before."

"Of course you wouldn't have," Yosuke muttered to himself, remembering what he had read in the case file his Dad carelessly left lying around in his study. Pictures of brutal injuries and detailed medical assessments assaulted his thoughts and the older boy felt a rush of anger. It wasn't the first time he had peeked into his father's work folders out of curiosity, but it was his first time meeting the victim.

"U-Um, did you say s-something?" John questioned nervously, snapping Yosuke out of his thoughts. Grinning reassuringly, the sixteen year old ruffled the younger's soft hair, satisfied when the boy didn't flinch. It had taken a while, but his adopted sibling had finally gotten used to physical contact from him.

"It's nothing important. I was just talking to myself," the taller boy replied. "Anyway, it's getting late. We should start heading home before Mom begins to worry." The blue eyed boy nodded, finishing the last of his ice cream. They strolled back to the house silently, a comfortable silence settling over them.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

John froze as a wave of nostalgia swept over him. That was it. The strange rhythm he kept hearing in his dreams. Where was it coming from? The boy in crutches chased after it with a sense of urgency. This was the key to finding himself again, he just knew it.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Yosuke yelled, running after John. This was the fastest he had seen his adopted brother walk. He saw the younger stop around the corner. The black haired youth hurried to his brother's side, concerned. They were standing right outside the basketball courts, just beyond the green, metal fence. Yosuke followed John's intense glaze to the five guys playing street basketball. What was going on?

"What are they playing?" the boy with light blue hair asked, blue eyes transfixed on the bouncing, orange ball. Yosuke was surprised at his brother's lack of stutter.

"It's called basketball," the ebony haired teen replied, and then almost hesitantly asked. "Did you remember something?"

"I think so..." The blue haired boy was clutching his chest, right at where the heart should be. "It hurts, Yosuke-niisan. I feel empty. I-I have this feeling that I should be there, playing with them. Playing basketball." The sixteen year old stared at the heartbroken expression on his younger sibling and instantly got an idea. He reached out to grab John's wrist, tugging him in the direction of their house.

"W-Wait, I want to stay longer!" John protested.

"We're already late. We have to leave now," Yosuke said before smiling. "You know, I used to play basketball with my friends when I was younger. I think I still have the ball tucked away somewhere in my room. If you want, we can come back tomorrow and I can show you how to play, alright? I have to warn you though, I'm amateurish at best." At that, John's face lit up and there were stars in his eyes.

"R-Really? Thank you so much!" the younger thanked profusely, and beamed. It was a beautiful smile, not unlike one you would see on a child.

Yosuke knew at that precise moment that he would protect his brother for the rest of his life.

* * *

"I'm done playing good cop, Ichirou! That guy's one sick fuck," Detective Hirota cursed as he left the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him. Turning to his colleague, who was standing in front of the one-way glass, the livid man continued. "He has no remorse whatsoever. The bastard spent half the time in there describing how he tortured the kid. In detail. And the terrifying thing is, unlike some of the psychos we've encountered, I'm certain that he's one hundred percent sane."

"I can see that. He's obviously enjoying himself," Detective Maeda said, obsidian eyes not leaving the man inside the room. "Sasaki doesn't think we can successfully convict him."

Detective Hirota snorted. "Hah! We can convict him alright. Bastard was so confident he wouldn't get caught that he left all this nice evidence for us to find in his house."

"That's not what I was referring to, Naoki."

"Oh, it's about the murders then," Detective Hirota corrected. "The forensic guys are still working on his stuff. We might find something."

"I doubt it. Sasaki Hideaki is a meticulous man. If we didn't find John Doe by accident in his basement, we would have dismissed him entirely," Ichirou retorted, before sighing. "I guess it's my turn then. I'm going in."

"Good luck!" Detective Hirota wished as he went into the interrogation room.

The suspect was sitting in his chair, completely at ease. Ichirou would even say he looked bored. It ticked the detective off, though he didn't show it. Detective Maeda approached the table, but didn't take a seat. Sasaki looked up and established eye contact without hesitation. Then, he smirked.

"How are you today, detective?" the man asked casually as if they were old friends. Ichirou ignored him and changed the topic to one that was relevant.

"We found a kid in your basement, Sasaki," Detective Maeda stated impassively. "Do you honestly think you'll get away with this?" The smirk on the other man's face never wavered. "Even if we can't find evidence to connect you to the other murders, we have more than enough to convict you for first-degree kidnapping and abuse of a minor." The suspect remained unaffected.

"In Japan," Detective Maeda continued, as if reading from a book, "your sentence would be approximately twenty years. Since this is the first time you've been arrested for a crime, you'll probably only spend around seven years in jail. But of course, to a spoiled, rich brat like you, seven years is a lot, isn't it? I'll get straight to the point. Tell us who the boy is and we'll cut you a deal."

"I don't need your help to get out of here, detective," Sasaki said, not the slightest bit unnerved. The green eyed man then leaned forward, as if he was going to reveal a secret.

"Besides, are you sure he really wants to remember?"

* * *

Cassie: I can't believe this. Did you have any idea how guilty you guys made me? Thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and alerts! I'm so sorry I couldn't update sooner. My internet went down for close to four months and then something went wrong with my Microsoft Office. Excuses aside, I also want to thank everyone who voted for the pairings. So far, the results are like this:

GoM/Kuroko - 24

Kise/Kuroko - 6

Aomine/Kuroko - 8

Akashi/Kuroko - 19

Kiseki/Partner - 3

No Pairings - 2

You can still vote. It's going to be open for a few more chapters. But judging by the current results, the pairing is probably yaoi. I will give an official warning later when it's confirmed. Back to the story, there are some who are not so comfortable with the English name, 'John'. Truthfully, it's also a little hard for me to write sometimes. But there are others who like the name plus it's a little late to change it now. It's still possible though, if you guys really want it. Can I have your opinion? The Japanese equivalent will be Tanaka Tarou, or so I'm told. Thanks, **Infinite Skye**.

And one more thing, the match with Kaijou will either be in the next chapter or the one after that. It seems like a lot of you are waiting for it. Haha. Oh, and you didn't think I was really going to make Kuroko's limp permanent, did you? The poor thing's suffered enough. This chapter is rather boring though, sorry about that.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.

* * *

"_Shit, that was a complete waste of my time." Aomine said, sneering as they headed to the nearby bus stop. They had just won a basketball match against their neighboring school. The outcome was an overwhelming 99 – 0 in their favor. _

"_As much as it pains me to, I agree with you," Midorima remarked, mildly irritated. _

"_They should just quit basketball," Murasakibara added in between chewing. The giant looked as unconcerned as always. _

"_Eh? You guys are so mean! It's not their fault they don't have any talent!" Kise exclaimed, unknowingly making the situation worse._

_Kuroko stopped walking._

"_What are you all saying?" he asked, disbelief coloring his normally monotonous voice. The others must have felt something was off as the whole group turned to stare at him. _

"_Oh come on, Tetsu," Aomine started with a bored expression. Kuroko couldn't speak. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Unconsciously, he had begun to inch away. Aomine's face changed into a weird combination of annoyance and concern. "Hey, we're just kidding, alright? Don't get all pissy on us. You have to admit, they totally suck." _

_Something in Kuroko snapped. Suddenly, he couldn't stand to look at any of them. His heart was hammering loudly against his ribcage and he could feel fear coiling and slithering at the bottom of his stomach. All he wanted to do was run because a small part of him had been screaming at him to agree. _

_He was a hypocrite. _

_His friends hadn't been the only ones to change._

_Out of all the revelations he made today, perhaps that one was the scariest. _

_There were many things Kuroko felt like doing at that moment. But before he could do something uncharacteristic like yelling or crying, a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. _

"_Tetsuya."_

* * *

"What? I can't come home now, Mom! I'm busy!" Ogawa Asuko protested over the phone, utterly distraught. She glanced over at her classmate, John, who was standing a few feet away, fidgeting nervously and looking very much out of place.

"Nonsense! I know school hours are over, Asuko! I need someone to look after your brother while I take your uncle to the hospital," Asuko's mother insisted over the line, irritated. "The babysitter can't make it today. I don't care if you're hanging out with your friends, dear. Family comes first."

"I'm not hanging out with my friends!" Asuko stated indignantly, affronted that her mother would think that way. "I just promised the vice president I would-"

"U-Um, Ogawa-san, it's f-fine if you have to leave. I-I can return home by myself," John interrupted uncertainly, head bowed. "I'm r-really sorry for inconveniencing y-you."

The student councilor with auburn hair saw his distressed expression and instantly replied, "No! It's no trouble at all! I volunteered. I should be the one apologizing!"

"-suko! Who are you talking to?" her mother demanded. Exasperated, Asuko directed her attention back to the cell phone in her hand.

"A classmate. Don't worry, Mom. It's nothing," the first year with wavy, shoulder-length hair assured. Thinking over the situation, Asuko sighed. She really had no choice, did she? "Okay, fine. You win. I'm coming home," the girl added, resigned.

"That's great, dear! Thank you. I'll see you soon!"

"Yeah, goodbye!" the freshman said before hanging up. What was she going to do? She couldn't possibly let John go home alone. The vice president would be livid! And if there was any truth in the rumors circulating among Seirin students, she'd be lucky to still be alive by the end of today.

However, there was barely anyone in school anymore. The second years had long left for a school excursion and most of the first years were having club practice. Even the other freshmen in the student council had gone out to scout an area where they were planning to organize a school trip to in the near future.

The answer to the brunette's dilemma came in the form of a tall, sweaty, scary-looking basketball player.

Asuko saw a familiar flash of red and spun around immediately. Wasn't that her classmate? His name was Kagami, wasn't it? Asuko had never personally spoken to the guy, but she had seen him help John out a couple of times. Despite Kagami's rather intimidating appearance, he had left a good impression on her. And besides, desperate times call for desperate measures. She should be able to entrust John to him, right?

Well, probably.

"Hey! Kagami-san!" Asuko yelled, causing the hulking teen to turn and look in her direction.

"Uh, yeah, what's up?" Kagami walked over, surprised.

"Can you do me a really big favor? I told the vice president I would send John back home but I have something urgent I need to attend to. Please? You have nothing to do now, right? I think basketball is the only club that doesn't hold their practice today!"

Kagami looked down at his pleading classmate awkwardly, and then at John, who was refusing to look anyone in the eye. He sighed. Fine, it's not like he had anything to do after this.

"I guess I could do that."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found Kagami and his classmate at Magi Burger. They, or rather Kagami, had decided to make a detour before sending Maeda back to his house.

"Are you getting anything?" the tall redhead asked as they found a table at a remote corner of the fast food restaurant. John shook his head silently as he sat down.

"Suit yourself," Kagami shrugged as he went to buy his lunch. He came back a few moments later with a full tray. "Here, you deserve this," the America returnee declared as he settled into his seat, picking up a random burger from his food pile and tossing it to the blue haired boy. Maeda stared up at him, startled.

"T-Thank you," the petite freshman said, looking at the wrapped burger his classmate gave him curiously.

"Consider that a bribe for a one on one basketball match. Seriously, that's some wicked speed you got there," Kagami answered, grinning. A thrill had gone down his spine when he saw the small basketball player in action.

The short freshman glowed at the praise before replying humbly, "O-Okay. I'm not that good yet though. Kagami-san is definitely a lot b-better." Kagami snorted.

"Have some confidence. I didn't even see you pass me on court until you shot the ball."

"You were taken off guard."

"Yeah, but that's no excuse. Tell you what, we'll settle this later in that match you promised me," Kagami proposed. John nodded meekly, accepting the challenge. The resulting silence prompted Kagami to dig into his food. Opposite him, Maeda did the same at a much slower pace.

Kagami looked at his weird classmate while eating, taking in the other's pale skin and baby blue eyes. He wondered if one of Maeda's biological parents was European. If it wasn't for John's small stature and distinctively soft Asian features, Kagami would have pegged him as a foreigner. The red haired freshman's attention then drifted downwards to the other's left leg.

In the end, none of the speculations his schoolmates came up with were right. Maeda's leg was already completely healed. No one would have guessed the limp was psychosomatic. Kagami bit back the urge to ask the other about it. Whatever caused it must have been traumatic though, if a physical disorder that originated from a mental cause had been the outcome.

Shit, now he really wanted to ask. Okay, think of something else. Uh-

"So, when did you start playing basketball?"

Maeda paused in his nibbling. He glanced up at Kagami, and the basketball idiot could see that the blue haired first year was embarrassed.

"I-I've only been playing for three months," John admitted.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kagami stated, eyes wide in disbelief. He had seen Maeda play the other day. That was not how a newbie played basketball.

Maeda's moves were like a seasoned basketball player, smooth and instinctual with no hesitation, albeit a little enthusiastic. He was unpredictable. And though the blue haired freshman usually stuck to an unorthodox style that had probably been influenced by street basketball, Kagami had noticed him switching playing styles effortlessly in the match. That was not something a regular player, much less a greenhorn, could do, not even if the person worked very hard. It was something that came with experience on the court. Unless…

"What are you? Some kind of basketball prodigy?" Kagami asked incredulously. Then, as Kagami's mind flashbacked to a conversation he had with some of the other first years on Seirin's basketball team, he added, "Wait, you aren't secretly one of the Generation of Miracles I've been hearing about, are you?"

Maeda shook his head bashfully. He too had heard about the Generation of Miracles. It was quite impossible not to, being part of the basketball scene. Kagami reclined into his chair, disgruntled.

"That's too bad then. I've been dying to dethrone the undefeatable basketball team this country's all hyped up about," Kagami declared without the slightest ounce of shame. "My goal is to defeat all of them. I want to become the best in Japan." John smiled at the other's strong conviction. It must be nice, to be so sure of yourself.

The smile didn't go unnoticed. It had been the most positive emotion Kagami had seen from the other so far and he was pleased to know that he was the one who put that there. The teen would never admit it out loud, but he was starting to get attached to this weird, enigmatic classmate of his.

"What about you? Why do you play basketball?" Maeda appeared surprised at the question.

Why _did_ he play basketball?

Basketball was home – or at least the closest thing he had to one.

It was the one connection to his past that was solid. Everything, from the rhythmic sound of the ball bouncing on the court to the whooshing of the net when someone scored, was so familiar to him. Basketball was the only thing that brought him a step away from being 'John Doe' and a step closer to a person who had goals, dreams and a family.

He had been proven right the second he set foot on a basketball court. John knew with absolutely certainty that he had played basketball before. The sport came to him naturally, like breathing, and playing it made him feel alive. Free. It was exhilarating, and for a transient moment, he could almost forget about the basement and Sir and _redredred _blood_- _

John inhaled deeply, panting, trying to catch his breath. He willed his memories away forcefully, stopping that train of thought. _It's over. He's gone. __  
_

"Oi Maeda, are you feeling alright?" Kagami leaned forward to get a better look at his classmate, eyebrows drawing together in concern. John shook his head, still trying to regulate his heartbeat. Kagami frowned.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

The blue haired boy nodded feebly, not trusting himself to speak yet. He stood up wobbly and was quickly steadied by Kagami's firm grip on his arm. John gave a tiny, grateful smile at his classmate's actions and came to the conclusion that Kagami-san was very kind, despite his rather scary exterior. They left the restaurant and were now walking to the nearest train station.

John was still thinking about the question from earlier. He wondered why he – or the person he used to be – played basketball. Did he have a goal just like Kagami-san? Did he want to be the very best? John was envious. Not for the first time he felt that aching urge deep within him, a strong, impatient desire to find out who he was. He didn't want to wake up every day with just memories of a life lived in darkness. He didn't want to look in the mirror only to see a stranger stare back at him.

He wanted a goal too, he realized. John liked to win. The pleasant feeling that came with accomplishing something with his two hands was almost addictive. But that wasn't why he played basketball.

Ever since John played with a team – with Seirin's team – he felt like he had regained something he'd lost. The camaraderie amongst the second years astounded him, and at the same time, it jumpstarted a longing he hadn't known existed. Now his dreams were different. The beat of the dribbling ball was now accompanied by laughter and noise – of teasing, and idle conversations between voices that he knew he should remember but didn't.

_If he wins, he wants to win with a team. _

Could he make that his goal in the meantime?

"Kagami-san," John said, and the red head turned. Kagami took in the other's determined blue eyes, and couldn't help but feel impressed. "I'll make you the best in Japan." Maeda's voice never wavered.

Kagami grinned. "Do what you want."

* * *

It was two in the morning when Akashi received the call.

He had been awake. The shrill shriek of his phone sliced through the thick silence of the night, and Akashi had answered immediately, with reflexes so fast one would think he had been expecting it.

Ryouta was the one on the line. For a moment, Akashi entertained the notion of being wrong. He ignored the logical conclusion he had come to after looking at solid facts and evidence, and for the first time, hoped that he had made an error because the alternative was something he didn't want to consider.

It was an idea that promptly shattered when Ryouta opened his mouth to speak. The teenager's voice was hoarse, most likely from crying and the blond was sniffling. Akashi knew straight away that he had been right. His grip on his mobile phone tightened.

The one-sided conversation was short.

"A-Aominecchi went over to his house to look for h-him and found the place on f-fire!"

Ryouta started sobbing again.

"The firemen pulled K-Kurokocchi out from under the ruins, and he was d-dead. H-He's dead, Akashicchi! Kurokocchi's dead!"

"_I always win." Blue eyes looked at him with pity. _

"_Akashi-kun, you are not absolute. One day, you will lose and I can only hope you find the strength to continue afterwards."_

* * *

They were asked to come down to identify the body. Since Kuroko's parents were still out of Japan and the middle school student had no other relatives in the country, the police had resorted to asking Aomine, who was at that time known as Kuroko's best friend. It was a rather urgent matter since the case had officially been stamped with the red label homicide, and the cops were scrambling to give answers to the people involved as well as the public.

When the tanned basketball player hung up on them, the next person the authorities contacted was a grieving Momoi, who in turn called Kise, knowing that she couldn't possibly go alone. Kise later informed Akashi, who ordered the rest of them to show up. In the end, everyone excluding Aomine and Murasakibara went along.

"Momoi Satsuki, right?" The man that greeted them when they arrived at the morgue was middle aged but sturdy, very fit for his age. "I'm Detective Watanabe Kazuma, the person in charge of this case," the police officer said with a grim smile. Looking pointedly at Momoi's companions, the detective asked, "And your friends are?"

Akashi stepped forward and answered for all of them. "Akashi Seijuurou," Akashi introduced himself. "We were on the same basketball team as Tetsuya, detective." Detective Watanabe narrowed his eyes at the red haired third year's assertiveness.

"I see. Your name came up when I was looking into our supposed victim. You're Teikou's basketball captain," Detective Watanabe stated dryly, a little suspicious. Akashi Seijuurou gave him a bad vibe. But seeing the devastated looks on the other youths' faces, the detective relented. "Well, I guess it's alright. You kids can go on in. Tell Dr. Tachibana I gave you the 'okay'."

"Thank you, detective," Momoi whispered, barely audible. Detective Watanabe nodded in acknowledgement and left them quietly.

Silence plagued the enclosed room after the man exited.

"I-I think we better head in," Kise finally suggested. He approached the ominous door and placed his trembling hand on the door knob. Following his example, Momoi trailed after the blond without a second thought. Akashi watched as the two disappeared behind the white door, bewildered that he had not been the one to make the first move – to _lead_.

His control was slipping more than he realized. Akashi strode to the door, but before he could enter, Midorima spoke.

"Akashi, don't," Midorima advised, "I think you'll come to regret it if you do." Akashi thought about it, contemplating Shintarou's warning. For the others, the image of the burnt body – possibly Tetsuya's – will dull and fade in time, but for him, it will remain as lucid and vivid as the instant he saw it. Akashi found it a fitting punishment, for not being absolute, for letting death pull one over him.

For allowing Tetsuya to die.

"He wouldn't want your memory of him to be tarnished by that."

And Akashi stopped. Because this was no longer about him. He moved aside to let Shintarou through.

Later, they would shakily tell Akashi about the mostly burnt Teikou uniform the corpse adorned. They would tell him about the few strands of singed blue hair still attached to the body's skull and the necklace they knew Kuroko wore around his neck twenty-four seven.

Half an hour after all of them left the morgue, the police released a statement to the press announcing that they've identified the victim.

Had Akashi gone in, he would have noticed how the corpse's collarbone was a little too prominent to be Tetsuya's. Upon further inspection, he would have seen the body's slightly too low cheekbones and the deceased's marginally longer femur bones.

Had Akashi gone in, he would have realized the corpse lying there was not Kuroko Tetsuya.

* * *

Cassie: Last chapter, this story reached a hundred reviews! You, my readers, are totally awesome and deserve virtual cookies. I know I should have updated earlier as a reward, but unfortunately, I got stuck at one of the scenes in this chapter and rewrote it – literally – a dozen times. I can't even begin to tell you how frustrated I was. Nevertheless, I thank all of you for your reviews, follows and favorites. I'm really sorry about the wait.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the poll is still open. Currently, the results are like this:

Akashi/Kuroko – 43

GoM/Kuroko – 40

Aomine/Kuroko – 12

No pairings – 9

Kise/Kuroko – 8

Kiseki/Partner – 4 (Which basically means Kagami/Kuroko, Midorima/Takao etc.)

I know some, probably most, of you are disappointed that this isn't the Kaijou match chapter. Fear not, for the confrontation you are waiting for is coming soon, more specifically, next chapter. For the same reason, I decided to keep using the name John Doe. I'm going to return to using Kuroko after some stuff happen so I hope you guys can put up with it in the meantime. Same goes for the stutter. It'll get better soon, I promise.


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